Hermione pulled the brush through her hair using long strokes, watching herself in the mirror as she did. She was sitting at her vanity table, wearing nothing but a satin slip as she got ready for her date.

Draco had said that he was planning something special for this evening, though he hadn’t told her what it was that he had in mind. Last night she’d arrived home at two in the morning, exhausted from staying at work late in order to meet an important deadline – only to find him asleep in her bed.

When she’d awoken him, he’d been embarrassed as he explained that he’d snuck in to surprise her, since he’d been out of town on business for the last month. His work took him away for long periods of time, which meant that in the year that they’d been together, he’d been gone nearly half of that time.

Hermione had taken it all in stride. Given her feelings for him (which were deep and almost frightening at times), she didn’t feel she had much of a choice. Either tolerate the absences and stay with him, or don’t put up with the absences and be apart from him. The latter option wasn’t an option at all, as far as she was concerned – and so she had stayed with him.

He’d told her to be ready at eight, and to dress nicely. A faint smile appeared on her lips as she brushed. To her, “nicely” meant slacks and a button-down shirt. To Draco, however, “nicely” meant formal – a dress and heels would probably do the trick.

She replaced the brush on her nightstand and reached for her favorite perfume, which she dabbed on her neck, wrists, and inside her elbows. It was also Draco’s favorite perfume; he’d told her so the first night she’d worn it around him. The jasmine and musk combination had a sweet but subtle smell to it, and he’d told her that it fit her perfectly.

She pulled her red dress off of its hanger and slid it over her head, enjoying the feel of it against her skin. As she smoothed it out, she laughed to herself. She’d teased Draco last night, telling him that she was going to wear her rose robe – the one she’d been in when they’d had their encounter in the dressing room.

While his memories of the robe had been fond at first, he’d forbidden her to wear it. His reasoning had been that she’d purchased it to wear for Harry, and he wanted her thinking only of him; he didn’t want her thinking of Potter in any capacity. She turned to her left, then to her right, examining herself critically in the mirror as she did so.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she moved into the living room, where she’d left her new shoes in their box. She pulled them out and slipped them on, wondering why she’d ever purchased stiletto heels in the first place.

She smiled to herself. She’d purchased them with Draco in mind, that was for sure. He’d been gone for so long, she’d wanted to wear something that would make him want to attack her the moment he saw her wearing them. Hopefully these would do the trick.

She heard the pop of his apparition behind her before she could turn around. He must have apparated into the kitchen, she thought laughingly, when she heard him bite out an oath. She moved forward slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, and lounged against the doorjamb that led from the hallway into the living room.

He emerged from the kitchen and glanced up, freezing mid-step when his eyes fell on her. She watched, her cheeks burning, as his eyes dropped to her feet and traveled slowly upward.

“Well,” he said softly, his eyes darkening. “This is unexpected.”

“You told me to dress nicely,” she said calmly, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t this nice enough? Or should I go change?”

“You’re perfect,” he said, his cheeks coloring. “I mean, you look perfect. You don’t need to change.”

She took several steps towards him, not missing how his eyes lingered on her new shoes. “We could always just stay in tonight,” she breathed, finally getting close enough to wrap her arms around his neck and press herself against him.

He sucked in a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter, afraid to be seen in public with me?”

“No,” she replied softly, catching his earlobe gently between his teeth, and glowing with silent triumph when he gasped in response. “I was just thinking that it’s been a whole month since I’ve seen you, and I’m not sure I want to share you with the public just yet.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured, his eyes slipping closed as she pressed a kiss to his throat. “We have reservations, and I don’t want to lose them.”

“We can always make reservations some other time,” she coerced, her lips moving lower. “Couldn’t we?”

“No, we bloody well could not,” he said finally, grasping her arms and gently pushing her away. “It took me fucking well long enough to get the ruddy reservations, so we are going. We’ll continue this,” he gestured towards his neck, “later.”

“Draco,” she pleaded softly. He shook his head firmly before pressing a light kiss to her lips.

“Absolutely not. Now get a cloak, because it’s cold out there.”

By the time Hermione was enjoying her chocolatey dessert, she was exceedingly glad that Draco had insisted on going out. She’d been afraid that being seen in public with him would hurt his appearances – after all, it wasn’t so long ago that he’d called her a Mudblood and had snuck around with her behind closed doors – but he didn’t seem concerned with the myriad of people who were openly staring at them as they ate dinner.

She licked some chocolate sauce off of her lips and put her fork down on the table. When she looked up, she realized that Draco was watching her, and her cheeks turned pink. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Why would you ask such a thing?”

“The way you’re staring at me,” she said, her eyes darting self-consciously around her. “Have I committed some terrible etiquette faux-pas?”

“No,” he said softly, “your manners are perfectly fine.”

“Then why is everyone staring at me?” She shifted nervously in her seat.

“Because you’re the most beautiful thing that they’ve ever seen,” he murmured soberly. Her eyes flew up to meet his.

“You know,” she said quietly. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble to seduce me. I tried to attack you back in my flat, remember? I appreciate you trying to romance me, but it’s completely unnecessary.”

He looked taken aback for a moment. “You think I’m only doing this to get you into bed?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know how sure of yourself you are, and you know you can pretty much have me whenever you want me, so I don’t know why you’re going to this extent to-“

“What did you say?” he asked quickly.

“What? Which part?” she asked, looking confused. “The being sure about yourself?”

“No, right after that – what did you say?”

“I said that you can pretty much have me whenever you want me,” she said steadily. “And we both know it’s true, so don’t expect me to deny it.”

Studying her face thoughtfully for a moment, Draco gambled that honesty was the best tack to take with her right now. “I didn’t bring you here for seduction purposes,” he admitted.

“So what did you bring me here for?”

He fished something out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of his hand. His fingers had curled around it to conceal it before he held his fist up in the air.

“What I brought you here for was to give you this,” he said, his fingers still concealing what he held. “But it’s not something that I give lightly, so before I hand it over to you, I need to know something.”

“What?” she asked hesitantly.

“I need to know if you’ve been faithful to me.”

She blinked in surprise, and then a frown appeared. “What kind of a question is that? You think that when you leave, I just go out and tumble every man I meet?”

“I wasn’t trying to say that,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm. “I just wanted to know if you’d abstained while I was gone.”

“How dare you question my integrity – my loyalty – like that!” she fumed quietly. “I’m not so fickle that I would turn on you simply because you weren’t here!”

“That’s all I wanted to know,” he soothed, trying to placate her. She pursed her lips and averted her eyes, choosing to focus her gaze somewhere through the window that they were seated beside. “Hermione, look at me.”

She didn’t budge.

“Please,” he added. She sighed and turned her attention back to him. It was rare to hear him ask for anything, let alone use the word please. He held his hand out, still closed in a fist. “Do you want it?”

“What is it?” she asked, the edge of anger still in her voice.

“I’m sorry to have done that to you, but I had to know,” he said quietly. “And I wanted this to be special.”

“Wanted what to be special? Dinner?” She glanced down at the chocolate cake she’d devoured, and her cheeks stained crimson.

“No,” he said, uncurling his fingers. She gasped when her eyes fell on the sparkling diamond ring. “This.”

“What-“ her breath caught in her throat as he maneuvered the ring between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hermione, will you marry me?”

“You’ve only been with me for a year,” she protested quietly, too surprised to speak any louder.

“Eighteen months,” he corrected, his eyes sparkling.

“One year,” she insisted, pursing her lips again. “And you haven’t even been here for that entire year. Why would you want-“

“I woke up one morning last week and realized that you could be walking around while I was gone, giving no thought to me. I didn’t like the way that made me feel, and I didn’t particularly care for the idea of another man deciding to try and romance you away from me while I wasn’t here to prevent it.”

“So you’re just doing it to protect what you see as your property,” she whispered sadly. He frowned.

“Yes and no. Did you not just hear me say that I didn’t like the thought of losing you? Don’t you realize that that means that I care about you?”

“I don’t want to get married,” she replied brokenly. He frowned, deep creases appearing in his brow.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to get married, or you don’t want to marry me?” he asked carefully.

She rose from her seat and refused to meet his eyes. “I told you we should have stayed in tonight. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Draco. Goodbye.”

She turned and walked away without looking back.

She had gotten approximately three steps down the sidewalk when she felt a hand on her arm. He spun her around, and when her eyes met his, she shivered. His normally cool grey eyes were like steel.

“Why do I get the feeling that that goodbye was meant to be permanent?” he demanded.

“Because it was,” she admitted.

“Why?”

“I can’t marry you,” she said brokenly. “Please don’t ask me to again.”

“You would be happier simply being my mistress, then?”

“What?” she asked, surprised. His eyes hardened.

“My mother has informed me that if I am not married by the time I turn twenty one, I will not inherit one red cent of my father’s estate. She is determined to arrange a marriage for me, and I have refused. I turn twenty one in two weeks, Hermione, and it’s either you or no one.”

“You can’t do that,” she gasped, her eyes wide with horror. “You can’t give up your money for me.”

“I can, and I bloody well will, if you refuse me. I will not be forced into a loveless sham of a marriage just because my father dictated it.”

“Well,” she replied miserably. “I think you can understand why I refused, then.” He released his grip on her and took a step backwards, his head suddenly reeling.

“You don’t love me,” he said flatly. She opened her mouth to deny his accusation, but he shook his head to stop her. He gave a bitter laugh as he shook his head. “And here all this time, I was certain of it.”

“Draco, you don’t-“

“I understand perfectly,” he said, his back stiffening as he turned away from her. “I won’t bother you again.”

Before she could say anything else, he was gone, leaving her alone on the darkened sidewalk.